Tingen
by nugget1999
Summary: A mysterious creature is found by a team stationed in a Norwegian outpost in Antarctica. They soon discover just how sinister it is (prequel to John Carpenter's The Thing, the 2011 movie doesn't count.)
1. Chapter 1

**Welcome! I hope you enjoy this _The Thing_ prequel! Be sure to favorite, follow, and review. If you love this story, then check out my account, nugget1999, on FictionPress as well! Thanks!**

~CHAPTER ONE~

NORWEGIAN OUTPOST. ANTARCTICA, 1982.

Winter had not come yet, and would not come for another month. Yet it was still freezing. Russell sat, bored, sketching a picture of a penguin. He had not yet seen a penguin out in the South Pole, but if he did, he would know what kind it was. After all, animals were his area of expertise. He couldn't draw for the life of him, but he had to do something. He wasn't necessary a people person, so being lonely wasn't a problem.

He looked at his half-drawn penguin, which looked more like a sea lion to him. He ripped the page from his notebook, crumpled it up, and tossed it at the trash can full of other unfortunate penguin drawings.

As he scratched the whiskers on his chin, Russell muttered, "Fuckin' shit."

"You should watch your language," said a voice with a Norwegian accent. A small man with a balding head, thick glasses over his eyes, and a rosary around his neck sat in the chair directly across Russell. The man finished with, "The Lord does not appreciate it."

"Was I talking to you, Berg?" Russell replied, annoyed. "If I wanted a sermon, I'd have stayed home, and attended my family's congregation." He held out his bottle of whiskey and said, "Whiskey?"

The purist translator waved his hand and shook his head. Russell shrugged and poured himself another glass. "How's Larsen?"

"Finally out," answered Berg, "you should really keep that bottle away from him, especially after tonight."

Russell thought about how an hour prior, Larsen was drunk as a skunk and hollering curses in Norwegian, even getting physically aggressive. His drunken rage reached its peak when Larsen nearly beat Cooper unconscious with his own cane. Everyone was too shocked to react immediately, because until he learned of there being alcohol in the outpost, he seemed nothing more than an outspoken scientist.

"Smith and Eriksen patch up Cooper good?" Russell asked.

"Oh yes," replied Berg, "but you know how those three are. Cooper's telling war stories to them, even though he's told them two times already, Eriksen suggesting letting Cooper dying—I'm not sure if he's joking—and Smith wouldn't even walk thru a dark corridor to get medical supplies."

"How about Olsen?" asked Russell, rolling his eyes about Smith.

"Still cleaning up the mess." Berg informed him. "I tried to get him to take a break, but he insists that cleanliness is next to godliness."

It was obvious to Russell that Berg was certain Olsen was paranoid. Ever since they've been stationed there, Olsen has continued to complain about a strange residue he has been finding seemingly everywhere. However, he has reportedly cleaned it before anyone else has, leaving most of the others to come to the conclusion that the cabin fever is setting in on Olsen.

"Pedersen still jerking off in the lab?"

Berg rolled his eyes. "He's working."

Russell asked, "What's he doing ing there? He's been stuck in the lab with that block of ice for four days."

Berg shrugged. "I have no idea."

"Strand doing okay?" asked Russell, with concern. Although he needed Berg to translate, so far Strand was the person who Russell liked the most—or, more accurately, hated the least.

"Went to bed before his meds wear off." Berg explained. Strand was a good pilot, but he changed emotions like a snake peeled layers.

Berg and Russell went on with this back-and-forth for about an hour. Berg told Russell about how much he couldn't stand the smell of the marijuana Dahl smoked, and how unfocused Lehto can be unless it comes to the computers. Russell commented on Karlsson, and how stunning she looked. Berg and Russell could tell that a majority of the men wanted to sleep with her, but she clearly had no interest in them.

Russell was content with talking to Berg. The place was so boring, and between himself, Berg, Cooper, and Smith, they were the only people that spoke English. That really drove Russell crazy. With so little to do, talking to Berg was something. Russell sighed. Winter couldn't come soon enough.

Berg put the tape of the team finding the spaceship into the screen in front of the two. Russell and Berg watched as they planted thermal charges and used up their flamethrowers. They watched as Russell, Smith, Lehto, and Strand carried the block of ice out of the spaceship.

"What do you think's in that ice?" Russell asked Berg, pointing at the screen.

Berg had his forefinger and thumb on his chin. "Your guess is good as mine. Alien, who knows?" He replied.

"Whatever it is," said Russell, "Pedersen is way too interested in it. We should really check in on him. Make sure he didn't die of starvation or something."

"Good thinking, Russell," Berg responded. He turned off the television and stood up. He said, "In fact, let's do that now."

"You do that, Berg." Russell said, also getting out of his chair. He continued with, "I have to feed Buddy, my husky."

The two went their separate ways, unaware of what was in store.


	2. Chapter 2

~CHAPTER TWO~

"Pedersen!" Berg yelled as he pounded on the locked door. In Norwegian, he pleaded, "Pedersen, what's gotten into you? Open up, you can't stay in there forever!"

He put his ear against the door. Berg called out Pedersen's name again. All that came back was an inhuman growl that sounded like multiple voices.

Somewhat unnerved, Berg said in Norwegian, "Okay, Berg, I'm coming in!" He pulled out the key to the lab (he was in charge of the keys) and slowly opened the door, with the strange noise still burned in his mind.

Pedersen was more less ripped in half. A slimy ball shaped organic monster separated his halves. It's mouth was a hole with several jagged teeth, with lime green viscera, crimson blood, and pearl drool hanging from it. Instead of using Pedersen's legs to walk, it instead stood on six hairy spider-like legs. However, it seemed as if Pedersen was controlling it, with the wretched sounds coming from his mouth, and his eyes were locked onto Berg's.

Berg's face flushed, and he instinctually bolted out, slamming the door and locking it just as the monster slammed into it. He sprinted to the first person he found, which was Lehto.

"Lehto!" He yelled in Finnish, Lehto's native language, "Where are the guns?!"

"I don't know! Ask Russell! Why?!" Lehto replied in Finnish.

"Something's wrong with Pedersen!" answered Berg, again in Finnish.

• • •

Russell watched Buddy as he contently dug into his food. "You're a good dog, aren't you Buddy?" Russell said in a playful tone. He smiled. At least Buddy appreciates me, he thought.

"Russell!" Strand suddenly yelled, causing Russell to jump.

"What?!" responded a very upset Russell.

"Hagle! Hagle!" shouted Strand frantically.

"What? Hagle?" Russell asked, confused.

Strand held up his arms like an imaginary rifle, and yelled, "Bang! Bang!"

"Shotgun? What for?" Russell asked.

Strand clearly did not understand, and continued making gun motions. Russell groaned, locked the kennel, and grabbed the shotgun from his bunk. He followed the rushed and panicked Strand to the lab door, where everyone was huddled in a semi-circle, gasping at the door, which was banging and moving.

"What is it, Berg?" Russell asked Berg.

Berg said, "Pedersen!" He unlocked the door and the creature lunged at Russell, who fired his shotgun right before it could touch him.

The thing shrieked an inhuman shrill and retreated back into the lab. Russell reluctantly shot Pedersen's head, which caused the thing to stop and slump to the floor.

The remaining eleven people stood in awe, until Berg suggested they burn the "unholy creature." However, not everyone was on board. They decided to take a vote on their options. Berg, Russell, Eriksen, Larsen, and Smith voted to burn it. Karlsson, Cooper, Lehto, Dahl, Strand, and most surprisingly, Olsen, voted to keep it to study. With a 6-5 vote, they had no choice but to keep the body.

Karlsson, the indifferent Eriksen, and the reluctant Larsen (who was then sober but suffering a massive hangover) examined the remains. Smith flat-out refused, and would not be moved or swayed.

• • •

"Well, it seems to have been trying to imitate him," Karlsson explained to the group in her native language, Swedish. Berg translated.

"Why?" Asked Olsen in Norwegian.

After Berg's translation, Eriksen answered in Norwegian, "I don't know. Maybe for survival. After all, it seemed fine in the ice. Or maybe it's a killing machine. I don't really care."

This seemed to provide more questions than answers. Finally, Larsen spoke up and said, "We need to burn it anyhow."

Berg translated it, and Cooper demanded, "Berg, tell that crazy drunk that Cooper wants to know why!"

Larsen answered, "Because parts of it are still alive."

The entire group gasped at this information. Russell stepped up, stating that him and another brave soul will carry the thing outside, douse it with gasoline, and burn it. No one objected to that plan, and Strand volunteered to help. The two carefully drug out the thing, which was not very hard as they were the two biggest people. The thing's body left a trail of slime that Olsen was more than happy to clean.

As the thing's body burned, Russell contemplated which person would be the most threatening if perfectly imitated. Strand was the only other muscle around, so the thing would strength advantage. But Lehto controlled the electricity and computers; things the outpost needed. Berg is the only translator, which would make manipulation easier. Perhaps the looks department would help in Karlsson's case. Olsen served the food—that's a disaster waiting to happen. Eriksen was doctor. Also bad news. Larsen was a ticking time bomb. However, Russell did not see anything to worry about in Smith, Dahl, and Cooper's case. They were too scrawny and generally unskilled to pose much of a threat, despite Smith being a doctor, Dahl being a scientist, and Cooper being a pilot.

This was all assuming that one, the creature is still at large and two, that it can retain certain skills of those it mimics.

Russell looked at Strand, who, in his flannel clothing, with his huge beard and somber pose, looked like mourning lumberjack. However, Russell could not tell what emotion was on Strand, as they were both hooded and wearing huge goggles. Once the fire burned out. The two stepped back inside, hoping to leave the entire situation behind them.


	3. Chapter 3

~CHAPTER THREE~

That night, Dahl wondered if the entire day was real, or just part of his weed trip. Everyone assured him what he saw was in fact real, and from then on he could not shake the feeling that something was going to go terribly wrong. Other than Karlsson, he was the youngest scientist there, the ripe age of 29. He remembered his favorite law, Murphy's law.

'Whatever can happen,' he thought, 'will.' Dahl could not help but feel that Murphy's Law could be applied in the current situation. He thought back to the ripped clothes in the lab. For some reason, that little detail bothered him.

He shook his head and laid on his cot. He was sure it was nothing, and that he was overthinking everything. If there was anything to look forward to in the outpost, it was Olsen's food. Dahl thought of that and closed eyes, falling into deep sleep.

"Lehto, any luck with Outpost 30?" Berg asked Lehto in Finnish.

Lehto shook his head and stated, "No luck. Sorry, man, but it's not gonna happen."

"This place is feeling more and more claustrophobic by the minute." commented Berg.

"Amen, brother."

• • •

Strand took his medicine and looked at Larsen, who glared back at him. The two Norwegians seemed to stare at each other for an eternity.

"I know what you're thinking," Strand said in a firm voice, "and the answer is no. You're not getting of my booze, especially after that crap you pulled with the American."

"I hate all three of them," replied Larsen, "Russell, Cooper, and Smith. Can't stand them."

Strand kept his flask close to him as he laid down on his cot opposite Larsen. "Then why are you taking it out on me?" He asked.

Larsen scoffed. "Seriously? You side with them, and you can't even understand them!"

"Well, boo-hoo then," responded Strand, "I like Russell. He's a cool guy. It's too bad I pulled the short straw and got stuck with you."

Larsen stood up angrily and said in an elevated voice, "Want to say that again?"

Strand stood up and stared Larsen dead in the eyes. The 5'8" Larsen was dwarfed by the massive 6'5" Strand. It was like a chihuahua next to a pit bull.

"It's getting late, and unless you want your hangover to get worse, I suggest you sit down." Strand commanded in a booming voice. Larsen sat back down in his cot and crossed his arms. He muttered swears.

• • •

Eriksen went over probabilities in his bunk, which he used to share with Pedersen. He used his little knowledge of the thing, as well as the timeline of everyone's events after it was discovered, to determine who, if anyone at all, was an imitation.

Smith scored a 2%

Larsen scored a 4%

Dahl scored a 5%

Lehto scored a 9%

Olsen scored a 16%

Berg scored a 17%

He, Karlsson, and Larsen scored a 20%

Russell and Strand scored a 47%

Eriksen looked at the numbers closely. Being a nihilist himself, he determined that the only logical conclusion to stop the spread would be to kill Russell and Strand. He decided to start with Russell.

Eriksen found a discarded knife and put it in his pocket. He went to Russell's bunk, where Russell was still awake. Cooper was fast asleep.

Part of Eriksen didn't want to do it. Part of him questioned if he was wrong. But Eriksen dismissed those thoughts; the possibility that the creature was still alive was an 83%, and he was not going to take any chances.

The night was almost silent, with only the wind supplying any sound. The howling of the wind made the place seem even more desolate and bleak, more dark than ever. He carefully made sure not to make a sound, and not to leave a shadow on the bunk's wall from the lantern light. Russell's back was turned from the door, making Eriksen's plot even easier. Eriksen seemed to tiptoe for an eternity. Cooper stirred, and Eriksen froze. He looked out the doorway. No one was there. He continued his stealthy path.

When Eriksen was right behind Russell, he pulled out the knife. He raised it over Russell's head, thinking only of the variables.

At that moment, Russell turned. Eriksen instinctually began driving the knife, but Russell caught it and yelled, "Cooper!"

Cooper awoke and witnessed Russell holding Eriksen against the wall. Eriksen dropped the knife and began shouting, "You're one of them!"

"Cooper, what's he saying?!" Russell asked.

Cooper, now on his cane, replied, "I don't know, I don't speak Norwegian!"

Eriksen grabbed an empty whiskey bottle and smashed it on Russell's head. Russell let go of Eriksen and fell down. Eriksen saw shadows running to the bunk in the corner of his eye. He lunged to Cooper and stabbed him with the broken bottle. Cooper fell off his cane, pulled out his handgun, and pointed it at Eriksen, thumbing the hammer back.

Eriksen pointed at Russell's unconscious body and screamed, "SHOOT HIM!"

Cooper, confused by Eriksen's Norwegian, kept the gun pointed at Eriksen. Eriksen again lunged at the fallen Cooper. Cooper shouted and fired the handgun, hitting Eriksen in the eye, and killing him.

Strand and Berg reached the bunk first, only to see a dead Eriksen and a wounded Cooper and Russell. Cooper just looked at them with a sorrowful and frightened tone in his eyes.


	4. Chapter 4

~CHAPTER FOUR~

The skirmish awoke everyone, but Olsen and Larsen did not arrive to Russell and Cooper's bunk. Smith treated Russell's head injuries, as well as stitched up Cooper's stab wound. Their bunk looked like a war zone. There was an overturned book shelf, a bullet, blood, and glass everywhere. Eriksen's body was buried in the snow, and Russell and Cooper were allowed back to their bunk.

Berg found the probability sheet Eriksen made and shook his head. He personally did not believe the thing was still at large, but seeing the numbers did give him second thoughts.

Russell and Cooper talked the next morning. As they waited for their meals, a shaky Cooper said quietly, "I-I haven't killed a man since...since Vietnam..."

Russell had heard Cooper's war stories, but this time it was different. He felt sympathy for Cooper. Cooper might have talked on and on about 'Nam, but at that moment Russell realized that Cooper didn't talk because he wanted to. He talked because he had to. Coping wasn't easy. With a bandage around his head and torso, and his unkempt hair and saggy eyes, Cooper now matched his state of mind and trauma.

Russell put his hand on Cooper's shoulder and said, "Yeah." He stood up from the table and said, "I'm going to go talk to Olsen. He never takes this long."

He went to the kitchen, which was unlocked. A flick of the light switch revealed a disgusting, unclean, messy kitchen. Red flags began popping in Russell's head. Olsen's too much of a neat freak for the kitchen to look the way it did.

Russell called, "Olsen?" He crept to the dark food storage locker. He could see a silhouette in the darkness.

"Olsen?" He repeated. The figure turned slowly and began walking toward him, letting out an unnerving growl. Russell began frantically backing away. The figure was Olsen, but not completely. Olsen's face began splitting into two, and Russell pulled out his handgun, firing at Olsen. This time, the bullets were ineffective. Olsen began mutating further.

Russell slipped on a puddle of purple-colored slime in the kitchen and began firing faster, yelling for help. As the thing began gaining on him even further, Russell remembered there was a gas line that kept certain foods heated enough to serve. He fired at the line and the closet erupted in flames, the fire barely missing Russell, who was already out of the locker. The creature shrieked in pain, and Russell shut the metal door. The flames died quickly, however, and Russell locked the locker, not eager to let the thing out, if it was still alive.

Cooper hobbled over and asked, "What happened?"

Russell answered, "Don't open that locker!" He pointed at the smoke-filled closet. He said, "Olsen was that, that, that Thing!"

Cooper and Russell stared in awe as a small spider-like creature crawled out of sight. Russell knew spiders, and that wasn't one. Russell face palmed and muttered, "fuck my life."

Russell had Berg announce that everyone stay in their bunks, while he, Strand, and Russell tried to find the thing. Everyone obliged, and the hunt began.


	5. Chapter 5

~CHAPTER FIVE~

"Everyone accounted for, Berg?" Russell asked. He led Strand and Berg thru the halls. Each had a rifle and a flare.

"Yes," Berg answered, "Smith is alone, as are Cooper, Larsen, and Karlsson. The only ones paired together are Dahl and Lehto."

"Good," replied Russell, "How's Strand doing?"

After a brief back-and-forth, Berg replied, "Strand is doing great."

As they inspected the rooms, Berg asked, "You ever bother to learn any Norwegian?"

"Some," Russell answered. "Some."

Strand heard a faint sound and followed it, not realizing that Berg and Russell were unaware he left. The sound grew louder, and Strand couldn't make out what it was as, it was somewhat muffled. Strand held up his rifle and turned on the lights, ready to find whatever it was. He crept down the corridor, and opened the door at the end of it to find...Buddy in his kennel. All of the chaos caused Russell to forget to feed him. Luckily, Strand always kept some of Olsen's food on him, and he fed him. He smiled at Buddy and went back.

Russell noticed Strand was gone. "Berg, you seen Strand?"

Right at that moment, Strand showed up, assuring Berg that he was fine.

After an unsuccessful search, Russell concluded that someone must have already been imitated. He sat down and discussed possible signs with Strand and Berg.

"Dahl mentioned to me that he found ripped clothes belonging to Pedersen and Olsen," Russell told Berg, "I think it rips thru clothes. Could be a good sign."

"That makes sense," said Berg. "Do you think it can retain memories and skills?"

"I don't know," replied Russell. "Pedersen and Olsen didn't do much when they were infected—I think."

Strand thought about that possibility, and felt uneasy.

"Would you try a test?" Berg asked Russell. "Gather up everyone and have them recite different memories and what-not?"

"I'm open to it. What about Strand?"

After being told by Berg, Strand nodded. The three went back to the bunks to report their idea. That thing was out there, and they were going to find it, no matter what.

They kept an alert eye, just in case it was lurking somewhere. Luckily for them, spotting it would not be very difficult, as the power still worked. Russell thanked his lucky stars for that. He did not know what he would do if the power stopped working.

"What if nothing weird happens?" Russell asked Berg, as they made their way to the bunks.

"Than either no one is the thing, or it is much smarter than we believed." Berg answered. He kissed the cross on his rosary and made the Catholic cross with his arm. 'God help us,' he thought.


	6. Chapter 6

~CHAPTER SIX~

The lights went out, and the heat began to drop. Russell turned on a flare and groaned, "Lehto." He ran to the bunks. They split and checked every bunk. To their surprise, Lehto was still in his bunk and Dahl said he was there before the power went out. Everyone was alive...except for Karlsson.

"Berg! Russell! Come here!" Strand shouted in Norwegian.

They ran to him and saw what he saw...a puddle of blood and viscera and a suit of skin...Karlsson. It was not a suit exactly, but it looked as if her skin was shed off her body. Berg turned and vomited at the scene, and the rest of the group just looked in awe and disgust.

• • •

Russell found himself, Berg, and Strand pointing guns at the other remaining five. They all sat on the ground, looked at the three with nervous looks.

"Four of you shouldn't have anything to worry about," Russell told them, "One of you does."

"Lehto, you're our prime suspect," Strand said to Lehto, who was very shaky. "Where were you?"

"No," said Berg, "Let's ask for Dahl's account first."

"Dahl," Berg asked in Norwegian, "Where was Lehto?"

"Look, I fell asleep and he was there. Woke up, he was there." explained a clearly stoned Dahl.

"Lehto, what did you do?"

Lehto replied, "Karlsson came to me wanting intercourse. She brought me to her bunk and we went thru with it. I came back afterwards. She must have been assimilated after that."

"Yes, but, see..." Berg said as he held up a tag, "This came from your clothes—torn off, see? Also, Karlsson told everyone the first day that she swore herself to celibacy."

Lehto became more nervous and said, "Well...guess not."

When translated, Russell felt confident that they found their creature.

"Would you object to a blood test?" Lehto asked, his gun pointed directly at Lehto.

Lehto opened his mouth and it split apart, revealing a long tendril with claws at the end. He shrieked a bloodcurdling shrill and the tendril lunged at Strand, yanking his gun from him. Everyone next to Lehto tried to run. Smith actually did get away, and swiped the keys off of Berg. Strand backed away from the tendril and lit a flare. He tossed it at Lehto's body, which absorbed the hot torch. It exploded, and almost sprayed body matter onto everyone.

No one was able to calm down. Everyone was panting hard, especially Strand, who almost died. Russell sighed. Now they were down to four. They could all relax now...until he realized Smith was missing.

"Dammit, where is he?!" Russell angrily said to himself.

"My keys are missing!" Berg exclaimed. Russell face palmed.

"Smith."

As Russell raced to find Smith, no one noticed Lehto's hand sprout eyes and crawl away on its fingers.

"I guess you're all off the hook," said Berg in Norwegian and American. However, no one moved. No one wanted to go off by themselves, and no one trusted any one enough to pair up.


	7. Chapter 7

~CHAPTER SEVEN~

Smith paced back and forth in his bunk, wondering what the best solution would be for him. He heard the struggle, and for all he knew, they could have all been assimilated. Smith would not let that happen to him. The only means of self-defense he had was a knife, and he would not dare come close to one of those things.

Smith grabbed ahold of the hair on the back of his head and winced. 'This is a hopeless situation,' he thought, 'How do I get out of this one?'

He scanned the bunk. Two cots, one on the left wall, one on the right. The left belonged to him, the right belonged to Berg. Berg had put up a painting on the wall opposite the door; it was The Scream. Smith could not help but feel like that painting was put there to describe the situation. In any other scenario, he would have chuckled at the thought, but not at that moment.

Smith's area consisted of a desk pushed against the left wall, which was next to his cot. On the desk were crumpled up pieces of paper, a lamp, and the keys he took from Berg. His cot was an unmade rumpled mess, with the sheets left just lying on the cot.

Berg's area was a bit more tidy. Berg also had a desk, which had a bible lying on it, and a statue of Christ on the Cross. His cot's sheets were nicely folded, and even smelled nice. Berg couldn't believe that thru all of the chaos, Berg still managed to find time to freshen the place up.

'It's pointless,' thought Berg, 'I won't survive this.' Berg looked at the knife in his hands.

It was a rather large knife, with notches in it. It was hunting knife used for skinning animals. The metal on the knife was colder, more so considering the loss of power. He could see his own reflection in the blade. With his stress-sunken eyes and cold place skin, he thought he resembled Edgar Allan Poe.

'C'mon, I can't do this!' He thought to himself, 'I can't just off myself!'

He gave the knife another look. 'Oh, yes I can.' thought Smith, 'It's either a quick death or a long and painful one.'

He gently put the knife against his left wrist, and pushed down slightly to slit it. The blood trickled down, causing a pool of red to seep to the floor. He pulled the chair from his desk and dragged it to the middle of his room.

'What am I doing?!' He thought, 'I can stop this! They'll help me!'

He heard the faint sound of footsteps approaching.

'No they won't!' Thought Smith, 'They're all those things now! They'll eat me alive!' He slashed his right wrist.

The doorknob jiggled and he heard Russell's voice cry, "Smith! Come out here! It's okay!"

Smith began to cry and yelled, "NO! You're one of them! You're all one of those things!" Smith took the knife, and ran it across his neck. The last thing he heard was a gunshot, and the door opening.


	8. Chapter 8

~CHAPTER EIGHT~

Russell took his pistol out and shot the doorknob off. He then pushed it open. Before he could say anything, his breath was taken out of his mouth momentarily. There was a small trail of blood, and Smith in a chair in the middle of the bunk. His neck was halfway cut open, and blood was trickling from his wrists. There was a knife on the floor, next to the chair.

"Oh my God." Russell gasped. The others showed up a few seconds later, and they were all speechless.

Berg asked, "What happened here, Russell?"

Russell replied, "He thought we were all assimilated. So he killed himself."

Berg saw the keys and picked them up. "Took my keys, too! Sneaky guy."

"Well, now what?" Strand asked in his Norwegian language.

"Seriously?" Larsen snapped at Strand, "You're going to ask Russell? He could be one of them!"

"Oh, shut up, Larsen!" said Dahl, who was out of his pot-induced haze. "Any of us could be that thing! Or none of us!"

As the three Norwegians argued, Russell and Berg stood quietly, both thinking. They could see their own breath, and if they didn't get the power back on, they would all freeze to death.

Berg announced over everybody in Norwegian and then English, "Okay, LOOK! We need one volunteer to come with me and Russell to turn the power back on!"

Larsen refused, saying that he would not take orders from Russell. Dahl said he did not fell up to it, and Strand said he would rather stay and watch over Larsen and Dahl. Cooper stepped up to the task, however, and so he, Russell, and Berg went to the HQ to bring back light and heat.

• • •

"So, how do you intend to get the power back, Berg?" Russell asked, as he guided them thru the dark outpost, shotgun in one hand, lantern in another.

Berg shrugged. "I don't know, but it can't be too hard."

Cooper remained silent as he hobbled behind them, pistol in his hand. His eyes darted about the area, and felt as if they were being watched. The shadows on the wall left by the dim, flickering light of the lantern looked like something out of a bad horror movie.

Russell stopped at a closed door and put his lantern up to it. He recalled what little Norwegian he knew and read the label.

"Hovedkvarter. Headquaters." Russell read off. "This is it."

The door was unlocked, so the three entered with ease. The place was trashed. There was overturned computer equipment, smashed monitors, and Russell was certain the place was burned, too.

"Damn," said Cooper. "Lehto did a number on this place."

"Indeed," agreed Berg as he picked up a broken com link, "I don't think we're going to reach a rescue team."

"So, what, we freeze?" Asked Russell.

"Most likely," Berg replied.

"Maybe not," Cooper said, "Lehto told me about a generator in this place—that could bring the power back."

Russell and Berg looked at Cooper with disapproval.

"Hey, hey now, don't give me that look!" he exclaimed defensively. "I was told this the first day, and it's hard to remember that when a drunk, a madman, and a monster have been after you!"

Russell sighed. "Fair enough. Let's go."

"No," said Cooper, "I'll do it."

Berg argued, "No, bring one of us with you! That thing could still be alive, and you're on a cane!"

"I can take care of myself," Cooper insisted, "If that thing attacks me, then I'll scream help, throw some flares at it, shoot it, and hobble back as fast as I can!"

"I agree," Russell said to Berg. "Also, if that thing is in there, better one of us goes than two or three of us. I know it sounds bad, but—"

Berg cut him off. "I get it." he said reluctantly. He looked at Cooper and said, "Fine. But come back as soon as you're done. If you're not back in 15 minutes, we're coming over."

"If I'm not back in 15 minutes," Cooper responded, "Than you run like hell and hide."

Russell and Berg watched as Cooper limped away into the darkness. Berg could not explain it, but he could not shake the feeling that Cooper would never return.


	9. Chapter 9

~CHAPTER NINE~

"Think they're having any luck?" Dahl asked Strand and Larsen.

"Well, the power's still out, so no," Strand replied.

They were all huddled together to conserve heat. Each of them was dressed in several layers and a big coat, and Strand held a lantern as extra heat. They leaned on each other's backs, and they all held a gun. They were not going to take any chances.

"It's an American idiot, a cripple, and a holy roller," Larsen spat, "what do you think?"

"Okay, seriously Larsen?" Strand snapped, "There is possibly a monster on the loose, and were freezing to death, and your main concern is your hatred of those three? Really?"

"Um, guys..." Dahl said quietly in an attempt to ease the tension.

Larsen scoffed and replied, "Oh, 'really?' Okay, how about this: who have Russell, Berg, and you protected? No one! Under Russell's command, Karlsson, Lehto, and Smith have died! Not to mention, he didn't save Pedersen, Eriksen, or Olsen, either!"

"Really, guys, let's stop this..." said Dahl again.

"Larsen, Pedersen was locked in his lab, and Eriksen attacked Russell and Cooper!" Strand yelled.

"And what about Olsen, huh? Or Karlsson? Or Lehto?"

Strand did not have a good answer, and he knew it. So he remained silent. Larsen noticed this.

"Yeah. Thought so, Strand."

"Guys," said Dahl, "this is pointless! Are you two done?"

They both nodded.

• • •

"How long has it been?" Russell asked Berg.

Berg looked down at his watch and answered, "Eight minutes."

Russell leaned back on the wall. They were both sitting on the floor of the destroyed HQ. Russell was making a Molotov Cocktail, and Berg was fiddling with a piece of glass.

"The suspense is killing me," Berg muttered.

"Yeah," agreed Russell.

There was a palpable feeling of tension in the air—both Berg and Russell felt uneasy. Russell was beginning to regret that he wasted his flask on a Molotov instead of whiskey. However, part of him felt like he was going to need it. He also had a bag packed with leftover dynamite. If that thing came back, Russell was not going to go down without a fight.

Berg prayed to God at least a dozen times. He was a very religious man, but never had he meant it so much in a prayer. Russell mentally prayed. It was his first prayer in nine years, but by far his most meaningful. As the air became colder, Russell began to do push-ups to keep warm. It did not help much.

It was only a minute later that Cooper returned, a graceful stride in his step. He came to Russell and Berg and said, "No luck, guys."

Russell noticed something odd. He asked, "Cooper, where's your cane?"

"What?" Cooper stammered, his face dropping.

Berg also noticed something strange, but it was different. He said, "Yes, and weren't you wearing a coat earlier?"

They continued questioning Cooper, and cornered him.

"I'll ask again," Russell said firmly, "Where's. Your. Cane?"

Cooper let out a shriek high-pitched enough to shatter glass and split in half vertically, revealing a two-mouthed, brown, slimy body. Cooper's skin peeled off, and the thing sprouted two tendrils and eight hairy legs. Russell fired his shotgun, but the thing left to ceiling before he could hit it. It shrieked again and began crawling upside-down, straight toward where Strand, Larsen, and Dahl were.

Russell fired his pistol at one of its legs, causing it to fall to the floor and keep on running, still shrieking.

Berg took out his walkie-talkie (Russell and Strand had the others) and yelled into it, "STRAND! RUN!"

Strand heard the message, and was confused until he saw the thing turn a corner and start crawling towards them, leaving a trail of slime and blood, and flailing its tendrils in different directions, letting out a scream that sounded in part like Cooper.

Strand and the others popped up and bolted in different directions. It wasn't long until everyone was scattered and alone.

Russell locked himself inside of a broom closet and stopped to catch his breath. His wallow-talkie was broken, and he was out of ammunition. The only thing he had left were flares and dynamite.


	10. Chapter 10

~CHAPTER TEN~

Strand ran into the bathroom and barricaded it. He than hid inside of a stall, and kept his shotgun pointed at the stall door. He was mostly out of breath, in part due to running, but also because he was afraid. As far as he knew, Berg and Russell could be dead. After all, neither were responding to his walkie-talkie.

Strand could not decide on what to do. He did not know if he should see if the coast is clear and make a run for it or if he should stay in the bathroom and wait.

'If I stay here, like this, I could get trapped,' he thought. 'But if I go out, I'll increase my chances of bumping into that thing!'

He wanted to see if he could hear the outside, since it was dead silent, but the thick door and walls made that very difficult. Strand was almost certain he would die soon. However, he was going to die on his terms. Just as he was getting ready to step out, Berg banged on the door.

"Strand! Come on out! The thing is gone!" Dahl yelled in Norwegian.

Strand crept to the door, and pointed his shotgun forward, as Dahl continued to bang the door. Strand took off the board used to barricade it, and Dahl accidentally stumbled forward, almost hitting Strand with his axe. Startled, Strand shot Dahl in the knee, and the two fell to the floor.

"Did you shoot me?!" Dahl cried, clutching his right knee, "What the fuck, man?!"

"Sorry! I was startled, okay!" Strand replied. Berg, Russell, and Larsen rushed to Dahl. Russell tore off part of his shirt and tied it around the wound.

"This should work for now," he said hastily, "We need to reach Outpost 31."

"But how?" asked Berg.

"We still have a helicopter," Russell explained, "and Strand is a pilot."

Strand knew some English, and from what he picked up, it appeared as if Russell wanted him to fly them to Outpost 31. He had to, because Berg seemed to involved with Dahl at the moment to translate.

Russell and Strand put Dahl's arms on their shoulders and helped him walk. Russell wanted to account everyone, to decide who was the thing, if anyone at all. When they reached the bottom of the steps of the outpost, he decided to start with Larsen.

"Berg," Russell said, "Ask Larsen where he was before we regrouped."

After a short back-and-forth, Berg stated, "He said he found the thing and killed it."

Russell stopped, as did Strand, who was in utter shock. Russell let go of Dahl and faced Larsen. He took Dahl's pistol and pointed it at Larsen.

"That so?" Russell asked. He continued with, "I'm going to tell you a riddle. It goes like this: How is a raven like a writing desk?"

Berg translated, and after another foreign back-and-forth, he reported, "Larsen thinks 'Raven' is another outpost."

"Interesting," said Russell. He thumbed the gun back and shot Larsen square in the face. "Let's keep going."

As they continued outside, Strand mustered up all the English he knew and said, "Russell, Larsen not say that."

As Berg continued walking, Russell stopped and said, "Seriously? Why didn't you stop me?"

"I try," said Strand, "but you too fast."

"Ask Dahl this," Russell whispered.

Strand asked Dahl if Berg told the truth, and Dahl shook his head. Russell looked at Berg.

"Hey Berg!" Russell shouted. Berg turned around. Russell pointed at the chopper. "That's not a helicopter!"

"It isn't?" Berg asked, with a serious tone.

"Oh no, we have to go around to the other side to find it!" replied Russell. "Shortcut's thru the outpost!"

Berg walked up to them and said, "Show me."

Russell took out his knife and stabbed Berg. Berg roared in pain, but he let out that inhuman cry that belonged to the thing.

"RUN!" yelled Russell.

Berg's skin began melting, and a thick, black liquid began pouring out of his eyes, ears, nose, and mouth. Three tendrils shot out of the wound in his stomach.

As Russell and Strand carried Dahl upstairs as fast as possible, one tendril caught his leg as soon as they were about to turn a corner. Dahl screamed and dug his axe into the wall. However, the thing was stronger than he was, and it yanked him off of the axe's handle and began devouring him. Strand and Russell found a desk and his under it.

"Any plan?" Strand asked.

Russell pointed to his bag of dynamite and his flare. "Boom." he said. Strand nodded and gave a thumbs-up.

The heard the thing enter the outpost, searching for them. Russell whispered, "Ready, Strand?"

Strand nodded. "Ready."

Russell lit the bag and tossed it at the thing. He crouched back under the desk as the bag exploded. Body matter rained down everywhere. After a few seconds, Russell and Strand slowly poked their heads over the desk. The thing was no more. They shared a victory laugh and high-fived each other.

"We did it!" Russell cried, "We did it, Strand, old buddy, old—"

He stopped mid-sentence. 'Buddy!' He thought, 'How could I forget Buddy!'

Russell stood up and ran thru the wrecked outpost until he reached the kennel. When he saw what was there his heart skipped a beat. The kennel door was wide open, and Buddy's discarded skin lied on the ground. Russell broke down and cried. His only true friend at the outpost was gone.

Strand shouted, "Russell! Look!" He pointed at a smashed window. Russell saw Buddy running away from the outpost.

"That's Buddy..." Russell mumbled.

"Must get dog," said Strand firmly.

"I–I can't," replied Russell.

Strand put his hand on Russell's shoulder. "Must do it."

Russell put his head down and nodded. "You're right," he said, "we have to."

They went back outside and climbed into the helicopter. Buddy was running at an incredible speed, and Russell couldn't get a good shot. They both made sure to load their rifles, in case it got ugly. Strand, who was piloting, gasped and pointed ahead.

"Look!" he shouted. When Russell saw it, his heart dropped.

"He's headed for Outpost 31," he gasped. He bowed his head and said, "God help us."

~THE END~


End file.
